Page 48 of Christmas at the Movies
‘I’ll do it,’ she said. ‘I’ll rewrite the script for you.’ She couldn’t wait to get started, to take a script in hand and make it sing.
‘Great!’ Noa clapped his hands together. ‘I have a good feeling about this. And to think it was Ingmar Bergman who brought us together.’
He smiled at her and Sarah basked in the warmth of his gaze. Noa saw her as a fellow creative. Nobody had looked at her that way in a very long time.
Sarah went to the door and peered out. The street lights were still on, though the sun was just beginning to rise. The road was clear and it had stopped snowing.
‘Shall I drop you off at Merricourt Manor on my way home?’ said Sarah.
‘That would be amazing,’ Noa replied.
Sarah switched off the lights in the office and lobby, then led Noa to the back door, leading out to the car park. Hers was the only car in the lot, swaddled by a thick blanket of snow.
‘Do you own the car park too?’ Noa asked.
‘Yes,’ said Sarah, trudging through the snow.
‘Interesting …’ said Noa, looking around. ‘You’ve got a lot of space out back here.’
Sarah brushed snow off the windscreen and unlocked the car. Driving carefully down the freshly salted country lanes, she dropped Noa off at Merricourt Manor. The hotel looked stunning, the dawn sunlight casting a rosy glow over the grounds. No wonder he had chosen it as his film’s location.
‘I can’t wait to crawl into bed,’ said Noa, yawning. ‘I can probably get a few more hours before my first meeting.’ Pausing before getting out of the car, he touched her arm. ‘Thanks for an unforgettable night, Sarah. My people will be in touch soon with your contract and an NDA.’
Sarah watched him go into the hotel, then set off for home. She hadn’t slept at all, but she was used to feeling tired. Sleep could wait. She’d have just enough time to bake Holly a birthday cake before she woke up.
How was it possible that Holly was sixteen? It felt like only yesterday that she’d been in her belly. Having a teenaged daughter – especially one as beautiful as Holly – had been making her feel old lately. But maybe she’d been looking at things the wrong way. Sarah’s life might be half over, but she still had half a lifetime ahead of her and it was time to start making every day count. She was finally going to do the things she had always meant to do.
She’d been handed a second chance and she wasn’t going to waste it!
30th November 2007
‘Come on out, baby,’ Sarah said, running her hands over her stomach. The baby kicked in response to her voice, atiny heel protruding from her huge belly. Sarah laughed. As much as she longed to hold her baby, she would miss having him – or her – all to herself.
After her initial joy at discovering she was finally pregnant, Sarah had passed an anxious first trimester. She’d sobbed with relief at her first scan, so convinced was she that something would go wrong.
‘Oh, honey,’ the midwife had said. ‘Welcome to motherhood. My youngest is twenty-seven and I still worry about him.’
Once she’d heard the heartbeat, and seen the scan, Sarah had relaxed – a bit. She had relished everything about her pregnancy, from morning sickness and stretch marks, to back pain and heartburn, because she had wanted it for so long. Every kick, every jab of a tiny elbow, convinced her that everything was still OK.
‘I can’t wait to meet you, little one,’ she said to her bump.
She and James had decided not to find out the gender. Meg thought it was a boy, because she was carrying so low, but Sarah didn’t mind either way – she just wanted the baby to be healthy.
Sarah looked around the nursery, with the cot James had assembled and lemon-yellow walls they had painted together. A mobile with sea creatures hung over the cot. The changing table was stocked with nappies and wipes, the dresser filled with tiny onesies and sleep suits. Her bag for the hospital was packed, with her birth plan, healthy snacks and an iPod loaded with relaxing music. Everything was ready – or as ready as it was possible to be before such a life-changing event.
Sarah opened the baby gate at the top of the stairs and waddled downstairs. In the kitchen, she struggled with the child lock on the cupboard door. When she finally managedto get it open, she opened a tin of pineapple and ate the sweet chunks straight from the tin.
Sarah had told James that their baby wouldn’t be crawling for several months, but he’d wanted to be prepared, baby-proofing the whole cottage. Meanwhile, Sarah had bought every baby and pregnancy book she could get her hands on from the Stowford bookshop. Nora, the shop’s owner, had joked that Sarah was single-handedly keeping the shop in business.
Despite all her cramming, Sarah still felt unprepared. She kept having a dream that she was sitting an exam and hadn’t studied enough. Only this was real life, and the exam was a baby.
She drank the juice straight from the tin, then threw it in the recycling bin and rang her mother.
‘Has the baby come?’ Geraldine said, answering after only one ring.
‘Not yet,’ replied Sarah, sighing. ‘I’m so impatient. I hate waiting.’
She was nearly two weeks past her due date.
